


The Last Time: Part II

by radxmauls



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Reader-Insert, Religious Conflict, Romance, Self-Indulgent, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:00:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26814769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radxmauls/pseuds/radxmauls
Summary: A continuation of part I, in which you continue your relationship with a certain Sith Lord.You are a Jedi Knight, and Maul is a Sith Lord and leader of an underground crime syndicate. Yet you just can't bring yourself to keep away, and no matter how much he should hate you for being a Jedi - neither can he...
Relationships: Darth Maul/Reader, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Reader
Comments: 53
Kudos: 141





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I created a part II because I've been having issues with part I, for some reason having a pseudonyn set up then removed means the fic reads as though it was last updated on the day it was published so I'm not sure if subscribers were getting notifications. Anyway, it's a continuation of the fic just minus the technical issues (I hope!)
> 
> Sorry this chapter took a little longer, I struggled figuring out what I wanted to happen but got there in the end 😁

You understand why the Council sent you on this mission. You had been wrong about many things during your conversation with Maul. This endeavour was serious enough for them to deploy another Jedi Master, but Master Koon needed your help on the ground to find Master Kenobi and any other stragglers. Anakin and Ahsoka are working to save the togrutas from certain death, now that Agruss has seen to it that the ‘cargo’ will perish. You’ve tried to fight with the control panel as much as possible - but it’s been destroyed. A purposeful act of recklessness to rob you of your victory.

You’ve abandoned the console in favour of Rex, fearing for his life after taking on so many Zyggerian guards in his current state of exhaustion. The clone’s head is limp in your lap, but you can feel his life force shining bright as ever. He is severely starved and dehydrated, but very much alive. He is going to be ok. You _do_ know that… but the pain. The suffering. The slavery that he and Obi-Wan have had to live through over the last few days. This is a kind of hurt that the clones were _not_ designed to endure. 

No living being deserves this. _No one._

Your anger twists your face into a snarl as you look up at the Zyggerian slaver, sitting high and mighty in his hover chair as he laughs at Obi-Wan. This monster has put your friends through hell. The stench of Rex’s sweat and filth clings to the air around you as you stand - and you know Obi-Wan carries it too. Esteemed Jedi Master. Your life-long friend. He is so honourable and just and _good_ ; to see him treated like this is something you cannot bear.

You’re hyper-aware of Obi-Wan’s lightsaber as he ignites it. Bathing himself and the Zyggerian in blue light as he stands in his ragged robes, legs shaking and nose crumpling as he glares at the slaver before him. The Zyggerian merely leans back into his chair made of gold and rolls his beady eyes.

“Come now, Master Kenobi. I know a Jedi won’t kill an unarmed man.”

It’s his comfort in the knowledge that he has come to accept as fact, you think. This, merged with his utter disrespect. Disrespect for innocent lives, but most of all his disrespect for Obi-Wan. You ache to prove this vermin wrong. You _hunger_ for it in a way that you have never craved anything before. 

_Show him_.

It licks at your heels. Tendrils of ice that become deliciously hot as you let them take hold. 

_Prove him wrong._

You think you hear Obi-Wan utter your name, but there’s a drumming in your ears that drowns out everything around you as the Zyggerian looks at you with… Fear. Uncertainty. Yes. That confidence is seeping away. Melting as you yank the lightsaber hilt from your belt and ignite it.

Two, fiery red blades burst to life from both ends of the duel-bladed lightsaber.

You jolt out of your trance, dropping the saber in the process. It powers down and clatters as the hard metal hits the stone slabs. Then, one of the Zyggerian’s weapons buries itself into the slaver’s chest… Rex. He’s up, and he’s used the last of his strength to skewer the bastard.

“I’m no Jedi,” He heaves.

No. No, no, no. This can’t be real. This can’t be happening. You can’t-- couldn’t have made this mistake. Couldn’t have picked up the wrong kriffing lightsaber in your haste to leave... But they had all been left together. You remember catching sight of them in the pile of clothes you’d left in the bathroom. All three hilts had been latched to Maul’s belt. Your two sabers on one side, the darksaber on the other. 

_No._

Each quick breath you take feels like shards to your lungs. Torture. You’re trembling as the Dark relinquishes its hold, giving way to a deep-rooted dread that threatens to bring you to your knees. Obi-Wan’s eyes are tight as he stares at you with a look of pure _betrayal_. It’s so fierce that you feel that impaling yourself with the saber would be less painful than this.

\-- 

Maul’s holo image flickers before you, pixelated and bright compared to the dimmed lights of your sleeping quarters. Obi-Wan has been assigned the bunk above you, but you’ve not seen him since he was ushered into the medbay by a worried looking Anakin. 

He is sat pensively, hands pressed together as though in prayer as he regards you. It feels like the strangest mood swap you’ve ever encountered. Here you are, a Jedi who’s about ready to erupt under the searing heat of emotions boiling to the surface. Then there's Maul, a Sith that's calm and thoughtful as he considers everything that you have just told him. 

“ _I suspect that Kenobi will surprise you_.”

You blink; eyes feeling grainy from all the crying you’ve done. Stars, you don’t think you’ve cried this much in your _life_.

“You didn’t see the way he looked at me,” you mutter miserably.

“ _I_ _sense the connection that you share. You are close. Perhaps, if there was no war, he would have the strength to sever your kinship and hand you in to your Council… but I fought Kenobi before the war began, and I have fought him since. He has changed_.”

“You killed Satine,” you feel the need to remind him - and it stings when he doesn’t so much as flinch. “He’s going to hate me. He’s one of the greatest Jedi I’ve ever known, but he’s only human.”

“ _Humans have an unfailing ability to make incredibly stupid decisions based on their perceived needs,_ ” his eyes glitter with amusement. “ _I am lucky enough to know that._ ”

“Perceived?” You quip a brow, at which he rolls his eyes.

“ _Your life would be much simpler were you to have never spoken to me again after parting ways on Maluterra. You needn’t have accepted my invitation on Coruscant… yet you did._ ”

“I couldn’t have just ignored you. I needed…” You trail off as he grins, and your cheeks grow hot. “Shut up.”

“ _My stance remains the same. I suspect Kenobi will surprise you… if not, I will happily assassinate him if you wish to remain with the Order. Or even if you decide to leave. I will take any opportunity I get, truth be told.”_

You shoot him your most murderous of glares, but all Maul does is chuckle.

“ _I must go. Now, go and speak with your dearest Master Kenobi - force knows I want to hear nothing more of him.”_

“Alright, alright… wait!” He’s just about to hang up when you call out, causing him to pause over his own holopad. “Thank you… For listening. I know it’s weird. I get that you hate him so I-- just. Thank you.”

His eyes seem to dance with varied responses. You catch a flash of adoration, of hate, of his jaw clenching as his fingers almost flex into a fist… Finally, he offers you a half-smile.

“ _You may file it under my ‘unwanted but necessary Sith boyfriend duties’_.”

It’s so out of character that you can’t help but laugh, and as he finally hangs up you suppose that’s exactly why he said it.

The room feels quieter without his projected presence. Colder. But you still feel the echo of his life force through your bond. Light years of distance dampen the connection, but the love he holds for you soothes away the worst of your guilt as you stand. 

When the Jedi finally rescued you from Maluterra, you had no option but to tell them half-truths. You told them that you had fought Maul, and that it was this battle that led to the ship wreck. In turn, you both had no option but to work together to survive - both through the crash and the time that followed. What you failed to add is that you enjoyed his company. That, at first, you had wanted to kill each other… but by the end you dreaded the thought of letting him go. You did tell the Council that he wasn't entirely unbearable. That, sometimes, you were almost able to speak on civil terms. What you excluded was that you talked for hours. Talked about topics ranging from your favourite fauna in the universe to your views on the continued production of the clone army. 

Guilt runs sharp through your chest as you think of how easily they had accepted your half-truths, half-lies. The force is so clouded with the dark side that it was difficult for them to prove you wrong. You had known this, and so you stepped into that room willing to risk everything. You lied to the Jedi Council - all because you were unwilling to admit what Maul meant to you.

And you'd do it again. And again. And again.

But, _force,_ you don't want to stop being a Jedi.

You find Obi-Wan sitting in the hangar. Meditating. But his eyes flicker open as you approach, watching you warily as you battle back your anxiety and settle into a meditative position in front of him. Maul’s lightsaber is still at your hip. He allows his gaze to settle on it, and your breath catches as you fight the urge to run. Instead, you set your jaw and tighten your hands over your knees. 

“Are you his apprentice?”

His eyes are made of steel as they meet your own. 

“No. _Never_.”

“And he knows this?”

“ _Yes,_ ” you grind out. 

“He has your lightsaber, I take it?”

“Unfortunately.”

His eyes harden further as he studies it again.

“Are you able to retrieve your own with ease?”

There’s something else hidden in this question, and you think the ‘correct’ answer would be to say no - but you won’t lie. It's not fair to. Not now.

“Yes.”

He tries to keep glaring, but you can feel his resolve breaking… wearing down until there’s nothing but concern and exhaustion in his gaze.

“Then I suggest you return _that_ before anyone else realises what it is. You will need your own for our next assignment.”

The shock is almost paralysing at first, but it slowly ebbs as relief begins to flood through you. Obi-Wan doesn't look happy… but he hasn't told you to kriff off, and he clearly isn't planning on telling the council _now_. He just… settles back into meditation. He doesn’t kick up a fuss. He doesn’t demand you leave and never speak to him again. He just seeks the tranquil depths of the Light. Rebalances himself.

You can’t help but stare in wonder. _There is no emotion, there is peace_. Never has a Jedi embodied this aspect of the code the way that Obi-Wan Kenobi does. He has slipped at times. The dark had called to him during his battle with Maul, and Obi-Wan had answered… but it was his ability to find peace amongst chaos that brought him back immediately. His dedication to the Light is far stronger than anyone you have ever met… You realise now that you were being ridiculous. Obi-Wan was never going to hate you, because hatred is not something he allows himself to truly feel. 

Your gaze lingers on the freckles dotting his cheeks, and you wish with all your heart that you could be half the Jedi he is.

\--

Maul is practicing Soresu when you enter, and none of the apartment's many lights are switched on. The blue of your lightsaber cuts through the darkness of the room as he takes a swing - so you instantly call it to your outstretched hand. Fighting back a smile to give him the hardest glare you can.

"I thought you'd be _pleased_ that I’m finally giving your pathetic Jedi techniques a try," He drawls through a jovial smirk.

"You're _hilarious_. What did a girl like me do to deserve such a spectacularly sarcastic--mph"

He's laughing as he catches your lips with his. One hand settles on your cheek, whilst the other settles on the lightsaber on your waist.

"I think you have something that belongs to me," he whispers. Voice delicate with the humour still gleaming in his eyes. You bite your lower lip as the warmth of your love for him threatens to burst your heart wide open. 

"Stars," you bring your hands up to hide your face from him, "I hate you so much."

"I know," he chuckles, then places a quick kiss to your forehead before stepping away. "I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Now, stay here - and close your eyes. Keep them that way until I say otherwise.”

"Hmm," You smirk, "Sounds kinda kinky. Are you planning on tying me up, Master?"

"Sadly, this is not sexual - though that is a fantastically tempting proposal."

Your eyes may be closed, but you don't need to see with your eyes. The force tells you that he's made his way into the bedroom, and you can hear the rustle of fabrics and the… click of plastoid? You're reminded of the clones and how their armour pieces clunk together during the training sessions you've occasionally witnessed. Soon he makes his way back into the main room, but you keep your eyes closed as instructed.

"You may look."

His voice is muffled by a modulator, so much so that most would struggle to make out who he really is. Your eyes land on him, standing in the frame of the bedroom door… suited up in a full set of clone armour. 

It's a set of the 212th's armour. You don't remember the name of the clone who it belonged to, but you feel a pang in your chest for their loss all the same. It's clearly been taken from a soldier that the clones would call a shiny; the paint job is nearly brand new and glints underneath the light… You think he is expecting you to be happy, but you can feel your features twisting into a scowl as your temper flares.

"That's disrespectful," you spit. "What in the name of the force possessed you to--"

"I kept this set in the event that I needed one of my men to infiltrate Republic space. It has not been used for this purpose, and so I thought I might use it so that we could… go somewhere."

You stop short, caught between the searing anger that's raised your hackles versus the logic of his proposed idea. He really doesn't sound like Maul under that helmet. He _is_ taller than the clones, but you're not sure that anyone outside the core planets would be able to tell…

"It's too much," your voice comes out shaky as you turn your back. "Please, Maul. Please take it off… and I'd like to take it with me when I leave."

Your bond crackles with agitation. He stands still for a moment, and you ball your hands into fists as you wait for him to argue… but he doesn't. His annoyance doesn't disappear, but he does head back into the bedroom and remove the armour as requested.

You step out onto the balcony as he changes - closing your eyes and connecting with the force as much as you can in the Dark's presence. As disrespectful as this little act of his is, you _do_ know that it has come from the right place. Maul isn't like you. He has been raised to hate and self-serve, so you don't think he will truly understand the prospect of respecting the dead. He did not adorn the armour to disrespect the clones. He did it for you… Guilt pierces your stomach, and you clutch onto the handrails as you fight to even out your breathing. 

"I've upset you," he murmurs, and you startle at the sound of his voice.

"I just… need a minute," you croak. Caught between yelling and apologising. The sigh he exhales has you grinding your teeth, but he honours your request by stepping back inside. 

It's gut-wrenching moments like this that almost bring you to your senses. _What am I doing here?_ You think of Obi-Wan, who's still recovering from his injuries back at the Jedi Temple. You should be at his bedside, flicking through holodramas and smothering him with well-wishes until you're both able to head back out into battle. Helping keep Anakin in line as he is off duty. Making sure Ahsoka gets time for meditation booked into her master's combat-heavy training schedule. Meeting with the Council to debrief them on what just happened with the Zyggerians… Instead you are here, returning a Sith Lord's lightsaber. A lightsaber that you accidentally took after _sleeping_ with him.

You sigh shakily, and bury your face in your hands.

You don't realise that Maul's behind you until arms wind themselves around your waist. His chin settles on your shoulder, and his nose settles against your jaw as he presses a kiss to your neck.

"I apologise for my thoughtlessness," his voice is uneven as his arms tighten around you. "Please, my love. I can feel your disgust - and I am truly sorry. It was never my intention. I-- I do not want to hurt you."

"It's an unavoidable aspect of our relationship," you mutter, wishing you could make the tears clouding your gaze disappear. "It's only natural. The Sith ideals are so different to a Jedi's. It's unfair of me to expect you to understand. You don't really have anything to apologise for. Your logic was sound."

"Please don't," he spins you by the waist, forcing you to meet his eyes as his hands clutch your arms, "the way you say that-- it sounds like you are giving up. Please forget it. I swear to you, I will not do that again. I will think before I do something that foolish. _Please_ forgive me."

His eyes are wracked with guilt, and it's this that causes you to pause. Sith don't feel guilt. Sith only hunt for power. To have him apologise for hurting you… it means a lot more than you're letting yourself realise. On the holocall you shared whilst in hyperspace, Maul had told you that you had been foolish to continue seeing him. But is he not just as foolish? He risks the control he has over the Dark every time he opens himself up to your Light. By all accounts, he should have killed you and used that grief to fuel his power a _long_ time ago… Yet here he is. Begging the Jedi that he has allowed himself to fall in love with for forgiveness.

"I… I do," you relent, letting the tension fall from your shoulders. "You're forgiven."

His relief is downright contagious as he pulls you into a near bone-crushing hug, and you let yourself sink into it. The Dark raging inside him quiets itself subtly as you wrap your arms around him in earnest. The tears burning your eyes dampen his tunic, but he doesn't comment on it. You're grateful, truth be told. Crying is embarrassing enough without people pointing it out.

"Did you speak with Kenobi?" He asks softly as he combs a hand through your hair.

"Yeah," you sniff. "He only asked if I could get my lightsaber back, and then he pretty much let me off the hook… I think. He hasn't said anything to the Council, so I guess that means he's just ignoring it?"

Maul hums his agreement, chest vibrating as you shift to press a kiss against the patch of exposed skin there. Stars, the last few days have been one of the biggest emotional rollercoasters of your life. The war has been debilitating enough, but between Maul and the Jedi you feel like you're being pulled in half. You wish you could just make a choice, because you can't live like this forever. Sooner or later, you're going to have to decide whether you want to remain a Jedi or leave with Maul… and become what? Not a Sith. Never a Sith. Not a darkside user either, but something else. 

The anxiety radiating from his side of your bond stops your thoughts short. You realise that his two hearts are beating faster, and his arms are tightening around you.

"Maul?"

He shakes his head, then buries his face in your hair.

_You're thinking about leaving. I can sense it. I apologised. I am sorry. Please._

Oh. Of course. _That_ explains why he came out here in the first place. That's why he apologised, and why he won't untangle himself from your embrace. He can sense your unease. Your indecisiveness.

"I'm just thinking over the options I have," You reassure him, drawing back enough so that you can raise your hands to his cheeks. His eyes are wide as they meet yours - brimming with fear and racing with wild thoughts. "It's nothing to worry about. I promise."

"If you choose the Jedi then you will have no option but to part ways with me. Y/N, I told you that I would not bother you again if you decided that first night was to be our last but-- but I doubt I could honour that now. I love you. I love you far too terribly to just let you walk away--"

"I'm not walking away," you tell him firmly, causing his mouth to snap shut. "If I had plans to do that I'd tell you, but I love you too and I don't _want_ to lose you. I just… I _like_ being a Jedi."

"You can continue to help those in need outside of the Order," He murmurs quietly, gaze searing with such intensity that it makes your tummy flip. "Something is coming. I know you can feel it. The darkness clouds _everything_ , and when it has finished taking hold of the galaxy you will be able to offer help to those in need."

"Taking its hold? Of the whole _galaxy_?" You choke back a laugh, "I can't see it being that drastic. The Jedi would stop that before it could happen. The dark is heavy, but we're in the middle of a war - it's only natural that it would take a toll on the feel of the force."

Maul recoils slightly, and you feel his mental shields solidify themselves as he stares at you. He looks… as though there's so much more he wants to say, but you're not sure you want to hear it in case it causes another argument. Is this why he's so keen to keep training with you? Because he thinks some sort of darkness is going to consume the galaxy? You almost want to laugh again, but he's still so tense that you think you're best off dropping it… You slowly guide his lips to yours, and soon the stiffness of his worries melts away. 

"Anyway," you flash him a playful look as you pull away, "I can think of _far_ more exciting ways to spend time with you than talking about matters of which I'd like to forget for a while."

A flash in your bond speaks of the anxiety still thrumming through his veins, but it's soon dampened when you push him back against the cool glass of the penthouse windows. You lick into his mouth as you kiss him again, and your hands dip into the open gap of his tunic to explore his chest. It's this that makes the last of his tension give way to desire. 

_Be in the moment with me_ , you whisper through your connection. _Forget about everything else. Just for now._

He lets out a heavy exhale as you slide your hand into his pants and wrap your fingers around him. He's only just started to harden, so you gently begin to pump him softly. Coaxing him into hardness. It's fascinating. He had started out so worried, but your touch ends up rendering him into a needy mess. His lips are clumsy as he sucks a mark into your neck. His breaths are uneaven, hearts thumping wildly and chest rumbling with various grunts and moans. You're not sure how long you just stand like that, but he eventually catches your wrist in his hand once he's throbbing hot and thick in your palm.

"Too dry," He gasps.

His surprise and arousal are palpable as you draw your hand to your lips and spit into it. You assume he had thought you'd maybe push your own trousers aside and guide him towards you, but that's not what you want right now. His golden eyes are wide, pupils blown as you lather yourself with as much slick as possible before reaching down to coat him in it too.

" _Fuck_."

His forehead falls to rest on your shoulder, tilting slightly to avoid catching you with his horns. Your fingers slide far easier up and down his length now, so you use the force for guidance - reading him like an unlocked datapad. 

"You're so fucking hot when you're like this," You growl, turning your head so you can take a deep breath of his heady scent. "Fucking needy for me."

"Always, always need you," He chokes, hand clasping the top of your arm - you're not sure if it's a plea to go easier on him or to keep going, so you do the latter. He's burning up in the force, as though the black hole of his presense is building up to go nuclear. You pause to rub the head of his cock with your thumb, his pre-cum making the movement even slicker.

He actually _whines_.

" _Yes_ ," his hips stutter forward as he seems to crumple in to you even more. His other hand slaps against the pane behind you. "Please, please. _Please_."

"Beautiful," you murmur soothingly, and you raise your free hand to stroke the back of his neck tenderly, "Are you going to cum for me, love?"

"I-If you wish for me to-- can I?"

Fuuuuck he's so unbelievably sexy when he's submitting to you. You _love_ having him manhandle you, but something about your ability to melt down his durasteel exterior until he's giving in to your every whim has a sinfully delicious wet heat pooling between your legs.

"I want you to project it to me," you whisper, then press a kiss to one of the bases of his horns, and his cock twitches in response. _Interesting_. "Let me ride along with you, hmm?"

"Anything," He rasps, and then growls hotly as you flick your tongue against the very place you'd kissed before. _Fuck, fuck, fuck I'm going to cum._

 _Please do. Please cum for me,_ you nibble experimentally at that same spot and his hips fly forward. It's in that moment he starts to really project, and you moan wantonly as the tightening coil of his orgasm settles itself deep in the pit of your stomach. Your skin flushes maddeningly as you feel the hot ecstacy of your quickening strokes now pushing you both closer to the edge. It's the strangest sensation, feeling pleasure build from a body part you don't have yourself. It's nothing like the stimulation you're used to and yet you find yourself getting just as lost in it as your legs begin to tremble.

His orgasm tears through the pair of you like an atomic bomb.

Maul cries out in pleasure-pain as he finally bursts over the edge, fingers digging into your forearms so hard that you know they will leave bruises for days. His cum coats both your hand and the inside of his pants as you continue stroking him, squeezing the tip just a little tighter each time you reach it to draw out the pleasure just a little longer. The air has been completely knocked from your chest. Your eyes feel permanently stuck with how tightly you've squeezed them shut against the silent scream shuddering through you. Maul sags bonelessly, collapsing to the ground and giving you no option but to follow.

The position you find yourselves in is uncomfortable, but you can't find it in yourself to care. The delightful hum racing through your veins is like a shot of pure spice; the ache of continuing to hold his softening cock in your hand is nothing compared to how good it feels to… well, feel yourself holding him.

 _Zabrak feel things way more intensely than humans_ , you note silently - knowing your voice just won't work. _You didn't even touch me, but that was the most intense orgasm I've ever had-- it wasn't even mine!_

Maul just chuckles in response, and the sound stands in such contrast to the tension beforehand that you find yourself grinning. You must look ridiculous but, _stars_ , you don't care. You couldn't care less even if you _tried_. His force signature buzzes with the afterwaves of pleasure that only you can give him, and in that moment you realise nothing matters in the universe more than this. More than your bond. 

Not even the Jedi. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Lockdown had my mental health taking another nosedive and I also had to figure out where I want this fic to go but I hope it's worth the wait!

You’re enticed from sleep by a searing heat pooling in your tummy. It’s wanton and delicious, and draws a small whine from deep in your throat as you open your eyes to blink against the first rays of daylight.

The next thing you’re drawn to is the sensations coaxing the arousal into being. You’re not cold, but your skin has broken out into gooseflesh and seems to catch the sheets as you shift. A warm, calloused hand is fanned out against the inside of your left thigh. The thumb _sloooowly_ strokes back and forth against the silken skin there. Then there’s the hot, wet mouth pressed against your collarbone; alternating between sucking and flicking out to lick at the presumably reddened flesh. Combined, these ministrations are slowly starting to burn you alive. You don’t know how long he’s been working you up but, _stars_ , the sheets feel damp as you shift again - hoping the hand will glide over to where you crave it most.

“Mmm,” your eyes roll back at the amused hum he emits, all deep and full of sinful promises. “I was starting to think you’d never wake up.”

“Kriffing hells,” you stammer, clutching fistfuls of the sheets to prevent yourself from doing anything too rash. If you know Maul, you know he won’t react well if you just reach down and start getting yourself off. No. You need to play this rationally-- even if he does smell damn good. Even if his slow, even breaths are fanning out against your bare skin. Even _if_ he’s just taken one of your perked nipples between his teeth, causing a jolt of pleasure to zap straight to your clit.

“I believe you were dreaming of me,” He rumbles, then pauses to lick at the place he’d just bitten. Your entire body twitches in need. “I could feel your arousal through our bond. You were calling for me. Of course, I was hardly going to answer while you slept… I’ve waited so patiently for you to wake, my love. You’re positively _dripping_ for me.”

He’s right. You were dreaming about him. All you remember are fragments, but you do recall that it took place on Maluterra. After a sparring session, if the faint recollection of a fist fight proves trustworthy. He had you pinned under him as he took you right there on the forest floor… You project what you remember to him, and feel a pang of pride at how it speeds up his breathing. Quick exhales spread faster over your breast, and you dart out your tongue to whet your lips.

“ _Please_ ,” You beg. Stars, your skin is too hot - you want to claw out of it. Pull him into it. Something. _Anything_ to satiate the throbbing madness that you’re desperate to act on… Instead of giving in, Maul merely releases his hold on you and lounges so that he’s sprawled out on his back. The muscles in your jaw twitch at how hard you grind your teeth, but then he’s flashing you a wicked smirk.

“If you’d care to sit your pretty self on my face… well, it’s safe to say that it would be my pleasure as equally as it would be yours.”

 _Fuck._ He’s chuckling darkly as you practically scramble up the bed. The metal headrest should be cold, but it almost feels like a respite to the fire threatening to burn you up.

His cheeks are soft on either side of your thighs, standing in contrast to the durasteel grip of his hands as he locks your hips into place. Once Maul is satisfied that you can no longer move he takes a long, _hard_ lap at you - starting from your opening and ending at your clit.

“Force be with me,” you squeak.

If you could grind yourself against him you would, but you suspect that it's not just his hands keeping you locked in place. Everything from the waist down is unmovable - so you have no choice but to just take everything he wants to give you.

And he really does give you _everything._

Going down on you is Maul’s favourite thing to do, you decide. It _has_ to be, because he really does take the time to perfect the way his tongue circles you clit. It's both too much and not enough. Stars, if you had the ability to move you’d be trying to squirm out of his hold to extinguish some of the soul-searing fire that's raging inside you. The pure ecstacy of it is so blindingly bright at such a quick pace that he might have performed a mind wipe - because you can't think about _anything_ other than the slick tongue now sliding down to bury itself inside you and lap at a spot that has you groaning as you smack a hand against the wall before you.

_Please, Master. Please make me cum._

_So soon?_ how he manages to lace internal dialogue with amusement is beyond your comprehension, but he ‘sounds’ like a lothcat that got the cream.

 _I need it so badly, Master. You’ve got me all wet and needy for you. I love it when you taste me like this_. 

Oh, you’ll say and do anything to rile him up. To goad him onwards. To coerce him into letting your pleasure explode in that cacophony of blinding euphoria.

_You taste divine. I could lay here and kiss you like this forever._

You suspect he knows your plan, and has guarded himself aptly to make sure that your honeyed words won’t deter him. His pace _does_ quicken now, but the pressure he’s applying is almost feather-light. He zeroes in on your clit again - but it’s just not _enough_. A hand glides up from your leg, drifting over your thigh and up your tummy until it settles on the same breast he had toyed with earlier. Without warning, he quickly pinches that same nipple and twists ever-so-slightly.

“Ohmylord,” you heave, arching the part of your back that is still allowed to move. He doesn’t stop there. He flicks his thumb over the peaked bud a few times, then softly rolls it between his fingers. Each touch - no matter how gentle or harsh - manages to hit the right spot each time. Causing the pleasure his mouth brings to spike with each movement. Rocketing you closer to the orgasm you’d _kill_ to have.

 _Look at me. I want to see those pretty eyes cloud over with the pleasure that only I can give to you_.

Your vision is bleary, but you do as he asks. It may well be a good thing that he stopped toying with your breast at the command, because the sight you’re met with is so arousing that you suspect it will get you through lonely nights for many months to come.

Golden eyes resemble molten lava as they burn into yours. It’s the sight of his red-and-black face stuck between your thighs that does it, though, looking as though he has absolutely no right being there yet loving every second… and he _is_ loving it. His joy is like a song in the bond, lulling you closer and closer as he _finally_ applies more pressure with his tongue and flicks the aching bud he’s spent so long teasing. 

It’s exhilarating. 

_Fucking fuck I need it please Master feelssogoodpleaseletmecumplease._

White spots dance before your eyes as the coil tightens. Your arms are shaking from where they’re pressed against the wall, fingernails clawing at nothing as the threat of your orgasm rises higher and higher until you can’t take it anymore, his mouth is so _good_ and wet and warm. Pleasure pools and spreads through your veins, and the sound you make is positively _feral_ as that coil finally springs free.

You cum. You cum half-choking, half-crying as the high near enough carries you into a whole different dimension of pleasure.

He’s there through it, shifting you both so that he can settle you back onto the bed and into his arms. He holds you close - tight and firm against his chest so that he can place soft kisses to your temple.

You don't remember moving, but you’re laid on your back when you finally come around… but how long were you out? The sound of something solid clacking against the nightstand has you tilting your head. A fully clothed Maul is setting a mug down, watching you with a small smile on his face.

“Hello, love.”

“Why’re you dressed?” You frown, “Criminal.”

“That I am,” he winks. “I must leave today.”

The pleasant hum of your earlier orgasm is almost entirely extinguished. You blink as though seeing him for the first time, and suck in a breath against the jab in your chest.

“Oh. Alright. When?”

“In about a standard hour, but I had a holocall to tend to first - which is why I unfortunately had to get up… you slept through that.”

He sits himself by your side and raises his own mug to drink from, and you're struck by this one striking similarity shared between him and Obi-Wan. You’re sure that their knowledge on this simple flora-in-hot-water concoction could rival the other’s. It would be nice to watch them bicker as something other than enemies. You can picture them both sitting at the kitchen counter, various blends sprawled in front of them as Maul breaks into a passionate speech about the benefits of his spicy Dathomirian tea - and Obi-Wan letting him, wearing an infuriating smirk as he prepares his counter attack featuring a tea from somewhere extravagant.

“You feel sad,” his fingers brush your hair back from your face - strands still stuck there from earlier on. 

“I’m thinking about things I shouldn't. Things I can never have…” He remains quiet, expecting you to elaborate. You sit up instead and force a smile on your face. “Never mind. Please will you pass me my tea?”

“Of course,” it's comfortably warm in your hands, for which you are grateful. “Do you know where your next assignment will be?”

“No,” You shake your head, “but I guess it'll be ready for when Obi-Wan and Rex finish recovering… I’m hoping for something off the front lines. It's been a while since I had a mission like those in my padawan days.”

“That would bring me comfort,” he admits, then leans forward to press a kiss to your temple. 

Kriff, your throat is tightening at the way your stomach sinks. You sip at the fruity blend in hopes that it will banish the emotions that have your breaths coming out quick and harsh.

“Sweetling, what’s the matter?”

“I--” You cough to try and clear it, but to no avail. You look up at him with wide, watery eyes. “I don’t want you to go-- I’m a hypocrite. I got angry with you when I left for my last mission after you worried over me, and now I’m being punished with a role reversal.”

Maul doesn’t seem irritated by this. In fact, you’re surprised as a gentle smile eases the worry line on his forehead. It’s followed up by a soft laugh that soothes some of your anxieties away. 

“Are you fretting over me?” the amusement clings to his gentle tone. “I _promise_ you that I will be alright. This is a simple outing. There is no real risk of combat, unless you count the need for Mandalorian helms to be clashed together with their heads still _in_ them--”

He breaks off at the ringing of your commlink. 

“Sorry,” you tut, calling it to you with the force. “This is General Y/L/N.”

“ _Y/N,”_ Your heart lurches as Maul tenses up. 

“Obi-Wan,” Stars, you can hear the tightness in your throat - and there’s no way that your friend won’t detect it too. “How are you feeling?”

“ _Much better, thank you. I am calling because the council has requested our presence_ …” A pause. _“I take it that you have retrieved your lightsaber.”_

Your face burns at the tone in his voice, and Maul lets out a growl.

“Yeah, I’ve got it. I got it last night. Are you at the temple? I left early - needed a walk, but I can be back within the hour.”

The line goes quiet for a moment. All you can hear is the thump of your racing heart. Please buy the lie. Please don’t jump to intelligent conclusions--

“ _I am at the Temple. I only called because you were not in your quarters. I will be meditating - you may come to my quarters once you arrive._ ”

“See you soon,” you confirm, then shut off from all frequencies.

“He is truly, disgustingly arrogant,” Snarls the Sith. “How you stand it is beyond me.”

“We’re not getting into that conversation,” You sigh. “I’m not leaving on an argument. You can save it for another time if you _want_ to fight, otherwise keep it to yourself.”

He doesn't say anything in response. Good. The last thing you need to be doing right now is countering his melodramatic accusations with valid reasons for Obi-Wan’s behaviour.

He’s waiting for you in the main room once you’ve showered, dressed in his full robes - hood pulled up and all. He looks like the shadow he has been brought up to be. Mysterious and deadly, with near-glowing eyes peering out from the darkness.

“I will be back as soon as I am able to be,” He assures you. You’re both stood at the doorway now; your lighter robes contrasting heavily with his own.

“I’ll miss you,” you whisper, stepping closer until you are able to press a gentle kiss against his lips. His hand comes up to cup your cheek as he returns the favour - the sadness you both feel at separating once more seems to be exacerbated the longer you stay there.

“And I you,” he mutters, and then he’s opening the door and stepping out into the hall. You watch as he leaves - counting down the minutes until you know that no one will suspect you left the same suite.

\--

Obi-Wan is still meditating when you arrive, but his eyes blink open the moment his door opens.

 _He’s on the Council_. Odd, that your mind chooses now to remind you of this fact. Obi-Wan has been on the Jedi Council for quite some time. It’s something that you have had to grow used to, but you’ve become familiar with his lengthy sittings and the occasional air of frustration he carries when leaving particularly gruelling meetings. He never speaks of what they disagree on, but you really wish you could ask.

Some Jedi comment on _your_ capabilities - and how they believe that, someday, you will sit on the Council too. At one time you might have agreed with them… But not since Maluterra, and _especially_ not now.

Obi-Wan is staring at you with an expression you’ve never seen him wear before. Not aimed _at_ you, anyway.

“You were with him all night, weren’t you?”

He had felt calm in the force, as you approached. That serenity was pierced the moment your eyes met. Like a bantha staring down a krayt dragon - you find yourself locked in place. You flail for something to say; cheeks burning pathetically as nothing helpful or reassuring comes to mind.

“I needed my lightsaber.”

Obi-Wan scoffs. The sound is ugly coming from him.

“Ah, yes. How could I forget - retrieving one's lightsaber often involves a nightly ritual.”

He might have smacked you across the face with how his snark blindsides you. You inhale sharply and swallow back the lump in your throat. Oh, you wish you could say something to defend yourself - but he’s absolutely right to be disgusted. Upset. _Angry_. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. Shoulders slumping and eyes blurring with tears. You don't deserve to cry, but you can't help it. “I’m weak. I’ve failed as a Jedi… I’ve failed _you_. I don't have any excuses worth your time or patience. I c-can ask the Council to assign me to someone else?”

“Assign you to… Are you-- _what_?” You startle as he jumps to his feet. There’s a fire raging in his usually soft eyes. “I won’t allow that, y/n. I cannot overlook this. You have willingly broken our code so _spectacularly--_ ”

“I _told_ you, I haven't fallen to the dark side!”

“If you continue down this path, you will!”

You snap your mouth shut at the disgust in his tone… Stars, you feel it crackling in the force. His distaste. Disbelief. But that's not the worst part. It’s the feeling of betrayal - the grief and hurt that hit you the hardest.

“You cared deeply for Satine,” you croak, forcing back your sobs as you attempt to explain yourself. “I know that was because of a mission you were sent on. I _know_ you understand. I was trapped with Maul for months. We had to work together to survive-- it bonds people, whether we want it to or not.”

But Obi-Wan is shaking his head, and his nose is scrunched up in disbelief.

“You _dare_ compare our situations? After Maul murdered Satine in cold blood? Our situations are not alike in the slightest.”

Shit. He’s right. You’re out of your damn mind, but your heart is racing wildly and the room seems to be spinning - he’s going to tell the Council. He’s taking your choice away. You thought you had more time and yet here you are, staring your exit from the Order - your home - right in the face.

And you can't _bear_ to go.

“ _Please_ , don't tell them. Obi-Wan - I’m begging you--”

“You have left me with no other choice. I wanted to believe I was wrong-- that perhaps you hadn’t fallen so far…” He turns away now, and when he speaks again his voice breaks. “You were my friend…”

He pushes past you and out the door. You want to follow, but there’s a horrible weight in your chest that seems to be threatening to sink you down into the temple floor. 

The ring of your commlink startles you out of it.

“ _I_ _can feel your fear,_ ” Maul is quick to speak. “ _What’s happening?_ ”

He knows never to contact you when you’re at the Temple, so he must have sensed just how bad it is.

“He’s going to tell the Council.”

Maul snarls under his breath. “ _You must leave. They will use you to capture me_.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scoff. “You hate the Jedi, I get that, but it’s the Sith that pull stunts like that.”

“ _Don’t be naive! They may not hurt you, but they will not merely release you from the Order. You are now a threat. If you are to leave, then they will know you will stay with me. They will not want to risk another Darksider set free on the galaxy. You will be their prisoner - and I will not let that happen.”_

Your stomach turns as you find it impossible to argue. Maul is right. They won’t kick you out - but this won’t be your home anymore. It will be a prison. A jailblock where you will have to look everyone you’ve disappointed in the eyes each day.

And you’ll never see Maul again. Not unless he pulls some stunt to try and rescue you, and if he’s captured...

“ _Please. I will beg, if I have to. If I try to rescue you - and fail to do so - my Master will capture me. I can’t… I_ won’t _let him have me again._ ”

Your eyes widen at the thickness in his voice. You’ve seen Maul smile. Seen him grieve… but never have you heard such _fear_ in his voice.

“ _If the Jedi tell him about us, you won’t be safe._ ”

“How would the Jedi tell a Sith Lord Republic secrets?”

Your voice has raised a few octaves, and Maul’s breaths are heavy on the other end of the link.

“ _I will tell you everything if you run._ ”

You want to refuse, but something in his tone rings so true that you can’t. There's something he’s been hiding from you - something big, and he’s offering the truth up on a silver platter if you choose to defect over being captured. Will this information help the Jedi? Put an end to the Sith Order? That would mean betraying Maul as well as the Jedi - but surely he knows that, if the information is vital enough, you would feel compelled to share it with the council?

You feel wounded as you leave Obi-Wan’s room to discover that he asked no one to stand guard. He trusted you enough to at least stand trial for your crimes… by leaving, you are putting the final nail into the coffin of your friendship. Though it hurts, this doesn't cause you to falter. You wind through the halls of the Jedi temple at a slow pace - heart thumping wildly as you force yourself to remain calm. If you start running then it will raise suspicion, and you can’t afford that right now.

You don’t risk using the commlink again until you’re outside.

“How do I get off-planet?” You hiss, drawing up your hood as you automatically make your way back to his complex.

“ _Unfortunately, you will have to work that out for yourself. I’m out of hyperspace but too far from Coruscant… Perhaps that friend of yours in the Senate may be able to assist you?_ ”

“Yes!” You veer from your course but quickly freeze. “Wait - the senate guards are clones. They could put word out for my arrest, and the clones would be the first ones to get the orders.”

“ _You will need a disguise_ ,” he hums. " _The clone armour? I don’t believe you remembered to take it with you."_

“Yes!” You feel hope bloom in your chest as you spin towards the apartment once more.

To say that Riyo is confused at you barging into her office in clone trooper armour is an understatement but, as always, she is willing to help without question. You can’t stop to think about what you’re leaving behind right now - you think it would kill you if you wondered if you would ever see the likes of Boone again. She takes a speeder with you down to the port where one of her own ships is kept… It’s only at the ramp that she finally recognises the situation for what it is.

“Will I ever see you again?”

Her voice is sad, and when you turn back her eyes are brimming with concern.

 _I don’t deserve you_.

“I hope so,” your voice sounds odd coming out the helmet’s modulator.

“Well,” she straightens her spine - trying to appear strong, “May the force be with you.”

The words threaten to bring your own emotions to the surface. _Don’t think about it_.

“And with you… Thank you.”

You imagine she stands watching as you withdraw the ramp and settle into the pilot's chair. You don’t remove the helmet until you’re out of Coruscant’s atmosphere - then you use the ship’s comms to request a holocall with Maul. When he answers, you tear the plastoid off your head and meet his concerned gaze with a wobbling lower lip.

“Plot a course to Mandalore,” he orders without hesitation, and so you do it. The ship lurches you into hyperspace once the course is set - tearing you away from your home and everything you have ever known.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Here's another one!
> 
> I just want to take a moment to thank everyone who is reading this fic, and an even bigger thanks to those who have commented. I have felt so much support from all of you, you inspire me to keep writing & your kind words mean the absolute world to me. I feel very lucky to share this story with you!

You are startled awake by a burst of erratic bleeps. With your heart racing and an ache in your neck from dozing off in the pilot's seat, you blink the remnants of sleep from your eyes and hunt for the problem… But it's just the ship letting you know that you’ll be leaving hyperspace within the next thirty minutes. It must be an alarm set by Riyo’s staff, you realise. It would give them time to prepare the senator’s guard, and give her time to ready herself for whatever she has scheduled. Confident that you have enough time to prepare yourself, you peel the rest of the plastoid armour from your body and make your way down to the sleeping quarters.

The ship Riyo has given you is small, so it’s not surprising that there is only one bedroom. You eye the lavish bed up with a sense of longing - but you are only planning to borrow the ship. Because of that, you really don’t want to disturb her personal items. So you use only what you need to. You take a quick shower, then lift your backpack from the floor to the bottom of the bed so that you can pull out your robes…

You stop short when it’s all laid out neatly on the bed. Mandalore has a terrible history with the Jedi. Not only that, but should you truly be wearing these anymore? There’s an ache in your chest as you brush your hand over the tabard… You shake your head. You don’t have time to think about this. Not when you’re heading into enemy territory. You turn your back on the robes and head to a compartment that looks like a wardrobe.

Riyo would be delighted to see you willingly dress in her clothes. 

Thankfully, you are not met with the sight of garish dresses and bejewelled ensembles. The clothing looks as though it is designed for a more weathered approach. There are some dresses, though their appearance is plain for a senator. You stop when you find an array of loose-fitting trousers. You pull the black body glove you’d worn with the clone armour back on, then select a pair of purple trousers and a poncho of a slightly lighter shade. Your utility belt remains hidden under the unfamiliar garment, so you feel comfortable clipping your lightsaber to it without fear of it being detected.

When you’re done there’s ten minutes to spare, so you crush your commlink under your boot and toss it out the trash chute. With a ration bar and bottle of water from the ship’s humble storage of supplies, you sit yourself back down in time for your entry into the Mandalorian system.

It doesn't take long for your ship to detect two others pulling up beside you.

“ _State your business_ ,” a gruff, female voice barks before you’re so much as able to say hello.

“I’m here on invitation of the Mandalore himself,” you state plainly. “I can wait if you’d like to check first?”

“State your name.”

You tell her, leaving out any titles of Jedi Knight or General. Just your first and last name, given to you before you became a Jedi. The only certainty you have in the galaxy is that those two names are your own… Luckily Maul had informed them to expect your arrival. The woman barks landing instructions to you, and you follow dutifully. It’s not long before you’re swerving around one of the planet’s moons and heading towards the capital city of Sundari.

You learned of Mandalore’s fate in your childhood classes, but not even your teachings could prepare you for the sight of the desolate, sandy wasteland you pass in favour of a huge domed structure. You land at the docking bay the stern voice has assigned to you, and then the two twin ships are flying back up and out of the atmosphere - back to policing the planet's airspace.

The official sent to greet you introduces himself as Prime Minister Almec’s aid, and leads you to a transport that will take you to the palace. You maintain focus on remaining calm as you travel the rest of the way; choosing to admire the strange design of the city’s buildings as opposed to thinking about what Obi-Wan and the rest of the Council must be thinking… Mandalore’s architecture reminds you of a strange, block-like puzzle that’s mashed together without any logic applied to its design. The buildings are akin to blocks haphazardly stacked on top of one another, though if they _were_ blocks some would have surely toppled over with the angle at which they have been ‘placed.’ _Not that Coruscant isn’t equally as confusing,_ you note. To an off-worlder, Coruscant’s many levels and sublevels often turn out to be a nightmare to navigate.

As you arrive at the palace you fight off a single thought: _I wish I could go back._

It comes as no surprise that you are ushered into a private room as soon as you step inside. The woman that now guides you explains that Lord Maul is not due back until tomorrow, so you will be confined to his quarters until he returns. This actually surprises you. You were not sure what he would tell those under his command, but not once did you think he would reveal just how close you truly are. You had almost expected to be lead to the prison cells under the guise of false capture. Instead, you’re lead to the royal quarters.

Was this the room where the Duchess lived? Where she spent time with Obi-Wan, perhaps? Swallowing the lump in your throat, you mess with a control panel until the blinds close to block out the daylight.

Then, you meditate.

You don’t take in your surroundings. You don't stop to admire the size of the bed, or the fruits set out for you on a nearby table. You don't want to _be here_ \- and for that reason you default to the one familiar comfort you will always have. Meditation allows you to drown out your surroundings; to release your anxiety and unease as you bask in the familiar serenity of the force.

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

…

Time passes, though you’re not aware of it until you feel Maul’s force signature jolt out of hyperspace. The room is black as night with the blinds drawn, but from Maul’s sudden closeness you realise that a day must have passed with you sitting in your trance. 

As your heart rate quickens, your stomach lets out a deep growl - voicing its frustrations at you letting yourself go without food. You hadn't actually meant to delve so deep into meditation, but not even the pangs of hunger can make you regret it. You cannot remember the last time you were able to bathe in the Light for so long, and it’s left you feeling far more rejuvenated than the necessities of food or sleep ever could. 

You’re surprised when you feel him approach, having thought he would at least speak to his people before coming to you. The level of compassion this silently displays is so shocking that it overwhelms the calm you have spent the last day dwelling in. The door slides open, and you curse at the sudden brightness of the lights outside. Sensing your discomfort, Maul quickly shuts the door after stepping inside.

His concern weighs heavy in the air, forcing you to consider why he had been so quick to come and find you. He had sounded terrified on the call you shared in the Jedi temple. If you had stayed, he would have had to go up against both the Jedi and his former master to save you--

“Are you alright?” He murmurs softly. You can feel the heat of his body with how close he stands before you, yet he doesn’t reach out. Not physically. You can feel him prodding inquisitively at your bond - using the force to see if you are hurt or troubled.

“I’m anything but,” you breathe. Even with the calm your meditation allowed you to surrender yourself to, you cannot deny it. “But I’m here now.”

“A life with the Jedi would have been no life at all… not after this.”

You let his words hang in the air; contemplating them before providing an answer. Part of you is quick to flare up hotly at his words. _I know, you idiot. But that was still my home!_ Another part of you, however, had resigned itself to this end back on Maluterra. Back when you first realised that you were becoming emotionally attached. 

You remember sitting on the edge of the frozen lake, with your teeth chattering as the deep chill seemed to make its way into your bones. The cabin held the promise of warmth and comfort - which was exactly why you had to endure the cold for a while. You had realised your feelings for him the first time you heard him laugh. You had heard him chuckle mirthlessly a number of times - usually when he was mocking you - but that was nothing like the carefree bellow that stole the breath from your lungs as much as it did his own.

Tears well in your eyes as his words take on a new meaning. _A life with the Jedi would have been no life at all… Not after this_. You think of what it could have been like if you hadn’t agreed to meet him in that extravagant Coruscanti apartment. If you hadn’t given into the fire that drew the pair of you in, like moths to a flame. Oh, it would have been fine. You would have been at peace to spend your life serving the Order. Surrounded by those you had always served with, trained with, fought alongside… 

But it would have been a life without colour. 

It was that kiss that sealed your fate. That one kiss that the Jedi should have never given the Sith… but you can’t be angry at yourself, because to be angry would mean you feel regret… Knowing you have hurt Obi-Wan is a gut-wrenching wound you doubt will ever heal, but not even the worst of your crimes can evoke a sense of regret. 

With a quick jolt of the force, you will the blinds to open up. The planet is in it’s night cycle - but the artificial light illuminating the ‘streets’ seeps in through the gaps. Maul’s skin stands out starkly against the clinical backdrop of the royal quarters. You realise for the first time that it’s very minimalist in its design. The sheets on the large, four-poster bed are white, and there is no art adorning the walls. It differs strongly to his apartment on Coruscant…

“Coruscant was my personal abode,” he admits - seeming to have pieced together what you are thinking about using your bond. “I have others, though I must admit my fondest memories were formed there.”

“I don’t like it here,” you finally admit as the tears break free. Though fogged by emotion, your voice remains strong. “I feel lost. I don’t regret my choice, but I don’t know what to do. My purpose was to serve the force - and I don’t know if I can do that without the Jedi, or…”

You break off as the blasphemy of your thoughts becomes too distasteful to put into words… but then he’s holding your cheek in his hand, and the warmth seems to soothe some of the pain as his thumb brushes a track of tears away.

“You can discover a new purpose, my love. I can give you _anything_ the galaxy has to offer, in time. For now, all I can promise is that I will do everything in my power to make you happy. I have many resources at my disposal. Tell me what you want, and you shall have it.”

You blink at his words. Anything? That’s a large promise. One that you doubt he can truly live up to…

“Tell me the answer to my question on Coruscant,” your eyes fix on his as you reach up to hold his wrist, “How would the Jedi reveal Republic secrets to a Sith Lord?”

“I swear, I will tell you,” his words are soft as he brushes his nose against your own, “all I ask is that you be patient. I cannot tell you now, but I _will_ be able to - when the time is right.”

“That’s a hypocritical ask,” you grumble, though you make no effort to pull away, “You’re asking me to trust you, but you’re not trusting me yourself.”

“I trust you with my life,” he says admonishingly, “I must be sure of something before I can tell you everything. Surely the full story is preferable to half a tale?”

You mull it over as he captures your lips in a tender kiss. He has a point. If you can wait until he has all the details, perhaps you will be able to get the information to the Jedi Council? Maybe, by doing so, you will be able to amend just a fraction of the hurt you've caused Obi-Wan. He will never forgive you - you’re sure of that - but it may at the very least redeem the smallest part of you in his eyes. 

_Alright,_ you speak through the bond. _I’ll wait._

“Thank you,” he breathes against you, his hand travelling down your neck from your cheek, “And thank you for coming to me. I was concerned... I would lose you.”

The words sound strained, as though they’re difficult to say. You can imagine that they are. Caring for someone as you do him and he does you… it’s a strange vulnerability. By choosing to walk this path you have teetered closer to the Dark, and in return Maul has cautiously touched the Light. You have not fallen because of this - just as he hasn’t risen up. But his admission evokes a deep sense of adoration, and the hand now travelling down to your collarbone becomes difficult to ignore.

“Maul,” your voice hitches as he gropes you over the poncho, and he hums his approval.

“Anything you want, you shall have,” he whispers darkly, eyes fixed on your face as he slips his hand under the poncho to grope at you over the black body glove underneath. The glove is much thinner, and so this time you gasp at the feel of it.

“You,” comes your breathless response, and the chuckle that fills the air has you melting on the spot.

“Good,” he whispers, then releases you to take a step back. The sudden loss of him pressed against you feels like a punishment - you go to whine at him, but he holds up a hand to stop you. “You know you can have me whenever, wherever or however you wish, but I can feel your hunger for something _other_ than this.”

“Food can wait,” you take a step forward, but Maul seems to have predicted the movement before it happens. He steps back as you go, leaving the same amount of distance between you.

“ _You_ can wait,” he shakes his head, “Impatient little thing… Are you forgetting who is in control?”

You freeze at his words; at the commanding tone he takes on. It sends heat searing through you, and you’re ashamed to admit you’re already getting wet.

“No, Master.”

He sucks in a sharp breath, so you bow your head as a sign of submission. Maybe, if you can work him up enough using subtlety, he will give in sooner rather than later. 

“Excellent,” he _does_ step closer now, though you know better than to try and act on anything. His fingers grasp you by the jaw so that he can guide your head up - allowing you to meet his fiery gaze. “By the time I return I expect you to have eaten. I want you to be waiting for me when I get back,” his voice drops into a silken baritone that has you biting your lip, “When you’ve eaten, I want you to strip and sit on the bed. Then I want you to touch yourself for me, but you are not allowed to cum. Understood?”

“Y-yes, Master.” 

“Good girl.”

Then, he’s releasing you from his hold and swooping out the door before you can regain your senses. The fire of his touch still tingles as you swallow against the dryness in your throat. The serenity of your meditation is long gone. Now, all you can think of is how you will be rewarded if you do as you have been told. 

The meal the attendants bring you is a dumpling soup made of a form of fish you’ve never tasted, but it’s absolutely _divine._ Maul was right, you begrudgingly admit to yourself. You _did_ need to eat. With your stomach full, you head to the refresher as you give yourself a moment for the food to settle.

You stare at the woman in the mirror after splashing water on your face. It’s jarring to see yourself in clothes other than your Jedi robes… yet you can’t help but think of how these colours suit you better. Though the trousers are too fanned out at the bottom to fit your tastes, the purple and black of the fitted body glove do go well together. Your cheeks are flushed after your meal, and you can’t help but compare yourself to the times you caught your reflection after a battle - your eyes sunken from days without sleep, face drained of colour and beige-and-brown tunics singed from blaster bolts, covered with filth and grime.

 _I never have to endure another battle again_.

You should feel guilty at the relief that pours over you in _waves_ \- but, just like the feeling of regret, it never comes. Never will you have to watch clones lay down their lives for you. Never will you have to suffer through watching one of your Jedi brethren die. Your chest swells with the overwhelming burst of gratitude. _Finally, I’m free._

You allow the trousers to hit the floor as you head back into the main room. Next comes the body glove, which you leave in a heap in the doorway to the bedroom. You hadn’t been wearing a chest binding, as they are not necessary when wearing body gloves, so you leave your underwear at the foot of the bed before crawling up to the top.

When you close your eyes and check on Maul’s progress, you sense that he is in a meeting of some kind.

You can tell by the feelings of agitation and boredom. He had spoken of this after losing Savage - stating that his least favourite part of running a Crime Syndicate is, by far, the sheer amount of _meetings_ he has to attend. As he doesn’t trust those under him to make decisions, the way he had trusted his brother, Maul has no option but to frequent such meetings himself. You feel a spark of excitement as you realise - _I can give him something to be entertained by._

You close your eyes and let your dominant hand drop to your breasts, then let your fingertips brush each nipple in turn. Jolts of heat have you tingling as you repeat the movement until they’ve hardened at your soft attention. You dart your tongue out to whet your lips, then pinch the more sensitive out of the two between your fingers - which draws out a soft whine as your arousal finally results in the familiar wet heat thoughts of Maul often evoke.

Taking precautions to not overwhelm him in such a public setting, you let small fragments of how you feel trickle through the bond that connects you. You grope your breasts a little more firmly now, and your clit throbs wantonly at the lack of attention as you tease yourself into growing wetter and wetter.

_Y/N._

It’s just your name, but there’s a warning in the tone of it that has you gasping around a needy breath. Your legs tense slightly as you suddenly clamp around nothing. You want to squeeze your legs closed and find the pressure you so desperately crave. Instead, you continue toying with your breasts - though you allow yourself to slowly rock your hips as another wave of need overtakes you.

 _Master, will you be gone for long?_ You’re getting wetter. You can feel it dripping past your lips, so you project this to him.

 _Behave!_ He snaps. _You will show me up in front of those underneath me_.

 _I want to be underneath you, Master._ Comes your needy reply. _I want you to wrap your fingers around my throat and bury yourself inside me. I’m so wet for you, my love. I feel so empty without your cock to sate me._

 _Force_ , if he could mentally groan you’re sure he would. _You are testing me, sweetling._

 _Come to me,_ you beg. _Please, Master, I’ll be good for you. I ate - as you asked me to, and now I’m naked on your bed and I think I’m going to soak your sheets._

The burst of arousal comes from _his_ end of the force, so fast and hot that it almost leaves you dizzy as your thighs tense - a further rush of wet heat floods you and you stop touching yourself completely.

 _You did that on purpose_ , you snap accusingly.

 _That I did_ , he ‘sounds’ pleased. _You didn’t cum, did you?_

 _No,_ you shudder, _but I wish I could._

_Not yet. Not until I’m there with you. Not until I can kiss your neck as I slowly rock my hips into yours and slide my cock in and out of you so softly that, by the end of it, you’ll be crying with your need to cum around me._

Your hand falls to your clit. You can’t help yourself. The picture he paints for you is enough to leave you panting as you let the pleasure of soft circles push you closer and closer to the brink.

_Yes, my darling. Get close enough so that you can almost taste it. I want you trembling for me. Desperate for me to fill you with my cum._

“Fuck,” you gasp, your voice rising a few octaves as you force yourself to pull your hand away and open your legs further to stave off the impending orgasm. 

_Such a good girl for me, aren’t you? Your pretty cunt is so wet and needy, yet you won’t give in - because you know that your own touch could never give you the pleasure you truly seek. Isn’t that right?_

_Yes, Master. Fuck, Master. Please._

_Do it again_ , he barks inside your head, and so you do. Your sensitivity has been heightened by your first denial, so the second build-up comes much faster - burning up and tightening your thighs until you’re worried they’re going to cramp up. A desperate mewl tears itself from your throat, and you’re balancing on a tightrope and you’re going to _fall--_

You sob as you ball the sheets into fists in both hands, suddenly releasing a heavy breath as you bury your heels into the bed and raise your hips to fight it off for a second time. Your entire body is flushed. You’re throbbing, nearly cramping which the way you continue to clench around nothing.

_Please let me cum, please help me, please Master I need it - please, please, please._

_I love it when you beg_.

Slowly, your panting falls back into soft breaths. Just as you feel as though you’re regaining some semblance of sanity, he barks one word:

_Again._

You almost refuse him, but you know that won’t result in what you truly want. So, you do as he commands - ignoring the ache in your wrist as you return to flicking your oversensitive clit until you’re gasping and arching your back off the bed. The pleasure borders on painful as you rocket towards your much needed orgasm, yet the pain only adds to how kriffing _good_ it feels. Your hips rock and you can feel the way your arousal has pooled on the sheets beneath you, _ohfucki’msoclose--_

“Stop touching yourself.”

You would cry out as you draw back, but you’re genuinely surprised by his presence. In your cloud of desperation you hadn’t noticed that his meeting had ended, or that he was drawing closer to you. You hadn’t noticed any of the doors opening, or that he had been watching you. You wonder how long he’s been there as you force yourself to stop squirming.

“My, what a sight you make,” He looks awestruck as his eyes trail down from your flushed face to the mess between your thighs, “I have never seen you so wet for me. I could smell it as I came in…”

He slowly lowers himself so that he can crawl up the bed, and stops as his face hovers over your dripping cunt. Before you can question his next move, his tongue flutters over your swollen clit.

_“Fuck!”_

It lasted a second if that, yet the move has your whole body tensing up. Maul watches you with lidded eyes, and licks the remnants of you off his lips as he takes in your response.

“Beautiful,” He breathes. It’s not until he’s gathering your slick with his fingers and brushing his head against your opening that you realise he’s naked too. “Tell me, my dear. Do you want me to fill you up?”

“More than anything,” you heave, nodding erratically, “I’m desperate. Please.”

“How could I ever refuse you?” He whispers, letting his lips softly ghost over yours before his hips snap forward.

The sound you make should be embarrassing. Low and guttural, your hands fly up to grasp his waist as he lives up to his promise and buries himself completely to the hilt inside you. The sudden fullness has you clamping down on him so hard that he snaps out a hiss and slaps his hand against the ornate headboard, and then he’s clutching the top of it and shifting you enough so that he can begin a slow, deep pace.

“Yeeees,” you drawl drunkenly. Though your clit is now far too sensitive, the sensation of his cock stroking your walls is _so_ much better than any other time in the past. The stretch isn’t remotely bothersome - you part for him as though he belongs there permanently. Wrapping around him as though trying to claim him as a part of you. He groans as he grasps you by the throat with his free hand.

“So-- _fuck,_ so pretty. So wanton. _Desperate_. I need you-- mine.”

“Yours,” you slur. 

“Mine to fuck. Want it-- want to fuck you in the throne room. Thought about it for so long.”

You have no idea what the throne room looks like, but the thought of riding him as he lazes on the seat of the Mandalore has you nodding feverently.

“Fuck me anywhere. I’m-- ngh, close.”

“ _Good,"_ His pace quickens, and he leans down to press his lips to your ear, “You’re going to cum for me. You deserve it. I want to feel you cum around my cock. You’re going to make _me_ cum with how good it will feel to have your deprived cunt using me to take your pleasure.”

You’re absolutely dying for it, so much so that you can’t even speak as you prop yourself up enough to meet his thrusts with the rock of your own hips. He goads you on as you take him deeper and faster, not caring for the sweat trickling down your chest and feral sounds escaping you with each heaving breath as you feel the tension building. It’s so ferocious that you think it might actually overwhelm you, but you don’t care. 

You don’t realise that you’re chanting _yes, yes, yes._ Your senses are entirely cut off - nothing matters. Nothing but the orgasm that is threatening to send you supernova. Your entire being seems to be on fire as you finally hit the edge; and all it takes is one more quick, deep thrust until you’re free falling.

The feeling of finally reaching your orgasm is indescribable. Maul pulls you into a wet, searing kiss, and you don’t know what sounds you’re making but you’re not entirely sure they’re human. He’s quick to follow - and you realise you’ve projected your own orgasm without even meaning to. He cries out in rapture as he buries himself deep and stills his thrusts, and the pulsing of his cock as he empties himself inside you has you shivering - hypersensitive now that you’ve finally hit the peak.

You stay like that for some time, though he releases his hold from your neck and chooses to stroke your hair as you run your fingertips up and down his back in soothing motions. He hums, chest rumbling with the sound as he finally shifts to place a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose.

“We should clean up,” he murmurs, “And find new sheets.”

“Not yet,” you place a kiss on his chin, “Just… hold me for a while?”

He pulls out at this, and you hiss at the feel of any sort of movement. When he’s laid down on the bed he pulls you into him, enveloping you in his strong arms and letting you settle down on his chest. You’re not sure how long you stay like that, but you’re sure it is the twin beating of his hearts that lulls you into a dreamless sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay, I had initially planned to write a one off holiday chapter to post sooner - but I sadly lost a family member over the holidays so I didn't feel up to writing in the end. I hope this chapter was worth the wait, & very much hope everyone enjoyed the holidays. Happy new year!

The Sundari palace’s library is eerily reminiscent of the archives back at the Jedi temple, and so it is the place that you find yourself spending the most time. It is here that you lose yourself to the history of Mandalore. Naturally you learnt of the war between the Jedi and Mandalorians in your studies, but to review it using the texts published from the Mandalorian perspective… It’s so very interesting that you can barely pull yourself away.

In your first few days here, Maul had offered you the Duchess’ former handmaidens for companionship. As soon as he had left, you gave them the option to leave your employment should they wish to do so. Of the six, five of them had accepted your offer… all but the oldest. Isla is an honourable woman. As loyal as she had been to Satine, she still believes in the old ways enough that she saw Maul’s “defeat” of the Duchess as his rightful claim to the throne. 

“I will serve you as I served the Duchess before me, if it is what the Mand’alor asks of me.”

You found this off-putting at first, but Isla had become a fast friend and welcome companion in the weeks that followed. You often find yourself going to her with questions on any of the texts you’ve been studying - finding her explanations rammed with so much detail that she could give the authors a run for their credits. The Duchess had expected those working for her to know of their history, as she saw it as the best way to keep them loyal to her pacifist rule. 

“I must admit, I did prefer the Duchess’ approach to leadership,” Isla had explained one day, “But tradition is tradition. My late father would have certainly wanted Death Watch to succeed - and such an upbringing is difficult to separate myself from. I must do what I feel is right by our code. I adored the Duchess, but this is the Mandalorian way.”

It’s something you consider closely, and you can't help but compare Isla’s logic to your own situation. Of _course_ your ideals still align with those of the Jedi order, but your bond with Maul is far too strong for you to just walk away. You ache for the Order much like Isla clearly aches for the Duchess and those who she has had to separate from… But just as Isla followed her gut instinct, you did too. 

“Leave. I require a word with my apprentice.”

The intensity in Maul’s golden eyes sends a shiver down your spine as Isla hastily leaves the room. It’s around midday - she had just finished laying out your lunch when the zabrak had stormed into the library with a murderous scowl on his face.

“Stop scaring them,” you sigh. His exaggerated anger is a ruse, as is your position as his apprentice. 

“I am Sith, am I not?”

“You’re acting like the child-eating monster you’re not supposed to be,” you raise a bow at the look of innocence he has shot your way. It breaks as a chuckle rumbles through his chest.

“Perhaps I lied.”

He’s towering over you now; his eyes glazed with fondness as he rests a hand on your shoulder.

“Why are you here? Don’t you have a syndicate to run?”

“I have passed my instructions to Kast. I also have an ‘apprentice’ to train, after all…” he turns to the various forms of literature scattered in front of you. “You read Mando’a?”

“I had Isla translate that one for me,” you snort. “I read and speak a fair few languages, but Mando’a is not one of them.”

“I know,” he grins, “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.”

“Uh… no?”

“No,” he raises a tattooed brow and places a hand over his heart, “You wound me.”

“I have no idea what you just said to me, so it serves you right.”

“I _said_ that I know you.”

“You _know_ me?” You snort, then push away the book you had been reading to tug a plate of food towards you. “What am I supposed to say to that?”

“The phrase actually holds two meanings,” he rumbles softly, leaning over your shoulder so that his cheek is flush with your temple. “To know is also to love, in Mando’a. However, the addition of darasuum means ‘I know you forever.’”

Your chest suddenly tightens before it swells with a tenderness that has only ever been inspired by _him_.

“Then I know you forever, too.”

You both turn at the same time, lips coming together in a kiss so soft that you’re sure you’ll melt. You part after a moment, but you stay still briefly to enjoy the remnants of his taste on your lips.

“Are you joining me for lunch?”

“I would be honoured,” he murmurs, then draws back and pulls the chair beside you close enough that he can reach out a hand for your own whenever he likes. “Do you not tire of sitting in here all day?”

“Not at all,” you beam. “I loved the simplicity of my life before the war. I often spent my free time in the archives. It was something that my master always praised me for - it didn’t exactly make me popular amongst my fellow padawans and knights. But popularity was never my goal.”

“Knowledge is power,” Maul hums in response, drawing your interlocked hands to his lips so that he can kiss the back of your own. “You do not miss your physical training at all?”

“Nope,” you purse your lips for a moment, and find yourself eyeing him suspiciously. “You don’t think that’s a good thing, do you?”

“Your relationship with the force is not one I can relate to,” he admits evasively, releasing you so that he can pull over a plate of cooked meat. He grimaces slightly. “Nor is your choice of food.”

“If you want something raw, I’m sure Isla would be happy to provide it for you.”

“I will make do,” he grumbles.

“It makes sense that you don’t really get my relationship with the force, being a darksider and all,” you say as he cuts into the rarest piece of steak he could find. “I don’t understand your relationship to it, either.”

“The force gives us power - it does not matter whether you draw upon the Light or Dark, this is a simple fact. I have seen many Jedi enjoy the perceived invulnerability that such power gives. I do not believe you have to have drawn upon the Dark knowingly to understand it, as every living being succumbs to it - to some degree - at one point in their lives.”

You go to say otherwise, but then you think back to the Zygerria mission. You had felt the Dark infiltrate your mind, and that _had_ been for power. You had wanted to dominate. To control the slavers - force the smarmy grins and twinkle of amusement from their feline faces. To make them fear you.

“Your silence only serves to prove my point.”

You blink as he breaks you from your trance, and find you have no room to argue. Instead, you scoop up a mouthful of food. Thinking your response over.

“The dark side is always there,” you admit in a voice so small that he has to pause to hear you. “It attempts to seduce those of us who serve the Light constantly. For the most part, we are able to stay one step ahead… but compassion without restraint brings us closer to fear,” you meet his eyes now, “I have had occasions where the Dark has caught up to me. The last time it happened was when I took your saber.”

“I would argue that my force signature has imprinted itself on the kyber crystal, as I had to bend to my will. It was likely that which assisted in the battle to overtake the Light,” He hums. “My apologies for playing a part in your momentary corruption.”

“There’s no need for sarcasm,” you roll your eyes.

“On the contrary, I am praising you for your strength of will - though I would counter by stating that giving in to the Dark leaves you far more room to explore your abilities. Perhaps the fight against it is why the Light is so weak? Because you have to spend so much energy fighting off that which only seeks to make you stronger?”

“I’m tired of philosophy,” You rub your temple with a sigh. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Very well,” he relents, though the successful smirk he’s now wearing has you grinding your teeth. You chew another piece of food to prevent yourself from snapping at him. “Do you plan to read for the remainder of the day?”

“Why, do you have something else in mind?” You ask idly, focusing on scooping up the last few pieces of your meal. 

“I had hoped you would train with me, though I dare say I am wary of asking that of you now…”

“Maybe another day,” you mutter stiffly, at which he nods.

“Very well. Would you like me to leave you to it? It does seem you have a number of texts left to explore.”

You turn your attention to the data cubes and books still piled off to the side… As much as you are enjoying the time to read, you’re being pulled more toward meditation than anything else. You stand and stretch your stiff limbs, glancing at the shelves to your right.

“That’d be appreciated.”

“Very well…”

You turn and head to the shelves before Maul can say anything else, and hope that he’ll leave quickly. It’s not that you’re angry at him, but his evaluation of the Dark and Light has left you with a cold sense of unease. You want to meditate on this, but you know that you won’t be able to with him so close. You also don’t want to tell him what you’re really doing, because then he’ll think he’s won and you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of that. You ponder this as you climb the nearby ladder to reach for the last of the books you had been meaning to collect earlier.

When you go to head down, Maul is waiting.

“By the force!” You gasp, your stomach jolting at the shock… You had been so lost in thought that you didn’t even notice he had followed you. “Damnit, Maul! I could have fallen!”

“If you had not fallen on your feet with all your years of training, you would have deserved the injury,” he scoffs. “Now get down.”

“I thought you were leaving.”

“ _Down_.”

His voice deepens at the snarled command, and this time your stomach jolts for an entirely different reason. You swallow against the sudden dryness in your throat as you climb down the ladder… Once your feet are on the ground, Maul takes the book from you and allows it to drop to the ground. You glare as it hits the tiles with a thud.

“That book is almost three thousand years old.”

“Face me.”

Annoyance flares through your chest as you spin on your heels. You want to snap at him now. To tell him that, if he has something to ask you, then he can very well do it without talking to you as though you’re one of his Mandalorian troops… You quickly come to realise that he doesn’t have anything to ask of you. He gathers you close in his arms and pushes you back against the ladder, and then his lips are pressed to yours in a kiss so hot that your entire body breaks out into a flush.

With no access to speech, and no desire to speak to him through the bond, you figure that an angry make-out session is the next best thing. You bite his lower lip with a little more force than usual and grasp at his tunic; feeling spurred on by irritation and arousal alike as his soft moan is muffled by your mouth.

“What do you want from me?” He breaks away to ask in a voice that is both thick and breathless. Your eyes flutter open to be met with dark gold hues that set the flames of your desire ablaze.

“On your knees,” you speak before you have time to consider what you’re saying, and Maul acts before he can think about it either. His metallic knees clank against the ground as he battles with the utility belt at your waist. Your legs quiver as you clutch the ladder behind you and bite your lip. You suddenly feel too hot. Too needy and desperate as he tears your trousers and underwear away together. You’re left wearing nothing below the waist, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

You have never done _anything_ like this somewhere so public, yet you find this spurs you on even further as he draws a trail with his tongue up your inner thigh - and stops just above your clit. Your breathing is ragged as he glances up at you with a look that threatens to burn you up from the inside. You clench desperately, and your grip on the ladders borders on painful as he draws your leg up over his shoulder and delves his tongue into your folds.

“Kriff,” you yelp - pulling yourself upwards as though trying to escape the sudden surge of pleasure of his hot, wet mouth sucking harshly on your clit. Maul hums his approval and then grasps at the thigh he has over his shoulder. His other hand shoots out to hold your waist, blocking off any attempt to withdraw yourself from the delicious assault.

_You asked for this,_ his voice drawls inside your head. _Now, be a good girl and take it._

_I know you_ and _I love you_ hold the same meaning in Mando’a, and that makes perfect sense to you now. Maul loves you, and that in itself brings about this intimate sense of knowing that no one else in the galaxy - the universe - will ever possess. His tongue lavishes your throbbing clit with the perfect amount of pressure; stroking and circling at just the right angle at the exact moment you need to keep the euphoric pleasure burning at maximum heat. You’re melting and aching and whining as his lips join the fray, kissing and adding suction so that you jolt and grind in his hold. It’s mesmerising. Enthralling, almost perfect if not for the uncomfortable scratch of his tunics against your--

He pulls away so suddenly that you cry out. Your head shoots forward as your eyes fly open in outrage. Your rage returns tenfold, but then you hear his utility belt clatter against the ground as he rips open his tunic and carelessly tosses it aside until his torso is laid bare. His grasp is bruising as he pulls you back into position, then his eyes flutter closed and you push your heel down into his shoulder blade as though to hold him closer as you are once again enveloped by his dexterous warmth. You’re so sensitive, and this time the rough fabric is replaced by the feel of soft skin and the tensing muscle underneath. It adds to the inferno he’s stoked deep within, and so your head lolls back as you begin to tremble in his hold. 

He knew. He knew in a millisecond - knew how you craved the feel of his skin against yours as he guided you closer to the brink of madness. You’re not sure what exactly it is about this that does it, but tears spill from your eyes as you squeeze them closed tighter against the crescendo that is threatening to shatter your entire being.

_Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,_ he states once more through your bond.

You break apart, back arching and breath catching in your throat as you convulse. Searing bliss frees you from the desperate need for the orgasm he gifts you with, and Maul practically purrs as he laps up the wetness that feels like a flood between your legs. When you finally regain the ability to breath, you gasp and whine as your limbs continue to shake. When you realise this is caused in part by a rumbling chuckle that reverberates through him, you drop your head forward and look at him through bleary eyes.

“If I could only describe how you feel to me - how making you fall apart brings me such an inexplicable sense of… Of…” He shakes his head as another, softer laugh overtakes him, and you realise from the affection in his eyes that he is not mocking you. On the contrary, he seems to be mocking himself as he continues to marvel at his own joy. 

“The Mandalorian phrase covers it,” your voice is husky as you speak, “We know each other. You just… know, and that makes me feel the same way. Bringing you to orgasm fills me with it, too.”

You unhook your leg from around his shoulder as he wordlessly conveys the need to stand. He uses the ladder to pull himself upwards, and when he is high enough he leans in for a slow, tender kiss that eases you into a softer form of bliss.

“I’d say,” you place a quick kiss to his chin, “That was far better than reading.”

“Well,” His breaths become a little shallower as your kisses grow wet at his throat, “That may be the greatest compliment you have ever given me.”

_Bleep. Bleep. Bleep._

Maul’s elation quickly deflates as his signature scowl tugs at his features. He quickly steps away from you with a growl as he snatches his utility belt from the ground so that he can answer his comm.

“This interruption better be a matter of life or death, Kast, or so help me--”

“Apologies, my Lord. I-- I did not realise we were not permitted to contact you when--”

“Is it _life or death_?”

“No, my Lord.”

“Then _goodbye._ ”

He turns the comm off without a second glance and drops both that and his belt back to the floor. You’re sitting on one of the rungs when he turns to face you again. The sight of you chases the rage from his features, and you don’t miss how his trousers bulge a little more as his gaze drops down your body. He looks magnificent, standing half-naked under the blue hue emitting from the data cubes and disks on the shelves surrounding you.

“Well, are you going to fuck me or not?”

He’s on you in an instant, and you laugh as you pull the waistband of his trousers down until they pool at his robotic feet. He helps you out of your t-shirt, and then he’s kissing down from your lips to your breasts where he takes a nipple into his mouth. You moan softly as the stimulation works you back up; making you wanton and greedy for a second orgasm at his hand.

“This is all I seem to think about anymore,” he groans as he sets his cock against your entrance. “I think about it when sleeping. When training. When I have to endure hours of debriefs or even when plotting our next moves. All I want is to sink myself into your wet, needy cunt,” he thrusts forward and is met with no resistance whatsoever. You gasp as he stretches and strokes you with each slow, _deep_ thrust of his hips. His voice is ragged when he speaks again. “To know I am the cause for such arousal in you. I would take you in front of _all_ of them if I could. Show the universe just who you truly belong to.”

“Yes, Master,” you whimper - his words and the bass-filled depth of his breathy voice serving to melt your cognitive functions. “Can have me--nngh, anywhere. I-- I want y-- _fuck_ , you. Always. _Yes_.”

“Good,” He shifts you so your weight is fully carried by the ladder, then grasps a rung so that he can hit deeper with each drawn-out thrust. “S--ahh, so good. So _wet._ Going to fff-fuck you slow. Take you in every room this palace has t-to offer.”

“Throne room,” you hiss, burying your heels into his ass to force him even deeper. “Fuck me on your throne, Mand’alor.”

He chokes on a breath. You’ve never used that title for him before. For a second you think he doesn't like it-- until he lets out a growl and begins rocking into you so hard and fast that you cry out in tortured bliss.

“Yes, my love. Take your Mand’alor’s cock as he--ngh, sees fit t-to give it to you. Want you on th-the throne. Riding me. Letting me _use you_.”

“Please, Maul…”

“The greatest display of my power,” the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room as he grabs your hips with both hands once more, and your eyes roll into the back of your head at the incendiary high each stroke of his throbbing cock adds to. “Instructing you as you please me how _I_ choose. I will make y-you suck my cock until you gag-- _nnnghh--_ then I’d have you sit on my lap and _ride me_ until you _scream_.”

You’re cumming. _Oh_. You clench hard around him as it explodes, sending shockwaves reverberating through your body. But he doesn't stop. He hisses and groans brokenly at the feel of your involuntary clenching. It’s maddening. It floods you with even more wet heat, which only serves to spur him on. You place a weak hand on his chest as the other slides up the back of his neck until your fingers massage the base of the horn at the back of his head.

“FUCK!”

He roars the curse as his orgasm takes him by complete surprise, and then you _scream_ as a third orgasm blows you apart. You’re both shaking. You feel him spill hot and heavy inside you - pulling a drawn-out moan from him as he relents to pure bliss. You’re both so sweaty, and he’s so kriffing warm, but you cling onto him for dear life as you take his cheek in hand and draw his mouth to yours. He’s still gasping breathlessly as you kiss him - but you don't care for the sloppy reciprocation. All you care about in that moment is that he’s yours, in your arms, his softening cock still seated inside you as you both slowly come down from your high.

“Do you think anyone heard that?” He asks when he finds the ability to speak. You feel a slight tinge of embarrassment through your bond.

It’s enough to send you into a fit of belly-aching laughter.


End file.
